A/n: This is written for Round 4 of QLFC Season 8, as Beater 2 for the Chudley Cannons. Because my team is so freaking wholesome, we're all writing Draco paired with different characters for this round! Obvs mine is Drarry lol. Go Cannons!

Main Prompt: adventure genre + [thriller] A tense narrative which is full of suspense. It is often based around a crime or deception.

Optional Prompts: 9. [setting] Dawn; 15. [character] Draco Malfoy

Quidditch Supplies Prompts: [quote] 'Hope never abandoned us — only we could abandon it' — Romanov, by Nadine Brandes

Word count without a/n and title: 2819

Thanks to my lovely and very patient teammates for betaing!

Show me a lie (and I'll tell you the truth)

You know that moment in Muggle films where time slows and you think the Muggles have discovered the secrets of magic, but actually it's all just a clever deception and a big, fat lie?

Yeah, this isn't anything like that.

Because at this moment, Draco Malfoy is watching as a historical monument of the wizarding world collapses on itself, as though in slow motion, with dust and debris flying everywhere. But no matter how long he waits for the illusion to fade, he is still left feeling the realness of it as he stands with a wand in one hand and a remote detonator in the other.

His earpiece crackles with static. A familiar voice comes on to say, "Well done, Malfoy. You really did it."

Draco blinks. His surroundings evaporate as his mind reels and memories return of the series of events that led to him blowing up the National Museum of Wizarding History.

Behind him, dawn breaks, blood-red and foreboding.

Fifteen minutes ago...

The earpiece feels foreign, and Draco keeps fiddling with it as he squats in the shadows of a statue of Godric Gryffindor. Everything considered, perhaps it's worth drawing on some of the infamous 'Gryffindor courage,' he thinks as he looks up at the granite likeness and scoffs at the irony of it all.

A soft rustle by his side snaps him back to his senses. A large ladybug flutters down. Draco blinks, and suddenly a witch is squatting where the ladybug had been.

"Is it done?" he asks.

"It's done."

"And the bomb?"

She shows him a small, sealed box.

Draco nods. Then, quiet as a cat, he eases to his feet. He fists the small remote in his pocket, wondering how it had all come to this.

He startles when the witch clutches his elbow, having stood up herself, and whispers, "Remember—if you're not within the radius, it won't work."

"I know."

They stare at each other for a moment longer, then she nods once. "Be careful."

"Well," Draco says as he turns to watch the first light of dawn creep along the ink-black skyline. "What's the worst that could happen?"

Two hours ago…

Draco remembers waking up that morning with a smile on his face, a skip to his step, and an incomprehensible feeling that everything would be all right. He wonders why he didn't anticipate then that his overconfidence would lead him to be tied to a chair with his hands behind his back and a sack over his head.

He straightens at the sound of the door opening, followed by raucous laughter and a woman's garbled sobbing. A moment later, rough hands jostle him and snatch the sack off his head. It takes a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the dingy lighting, then a few more for him to recognise the pug-faced brunette seated before him.

"Draco!" she exclaims, her voice shrill and jarring, and Draco cringes. Then she resumes crying, and Draco can't help but sigh in exasperation.

"This is nice, innit?" their captor, a burly bloke with two missing front teeth, says as he motions between the duo. "Friendly reunion and all."

"We're not friends," Draco snaps, his anger towards the situation now finding its target. "What is she doing here?"

"Go on, then," the man barks at the witch. "Tell your little friend how you couldn't keep your nose where it belongs."

"Parkinson," Draco hisses when the brunette's sobs grow hysterical, "nobody believes your crocodile tears, so drop the act."

Pansy continues for a few more moments before clicking her tongue, dabbing at her eyes, and sitting back with arms and legs crossed.

"Fine, fine. No point in dragging this out," she says, her previous damsel-in-distress act now replaced by her usual diva attitude. "I was just doing what a journalist does when I was apprehended and dragged here by this goon. Why are you here?"

Draco rolls his eyes. "You never learn, do y—" he breaks off abruptly as he recollects a vague piece of information, too hazy to remember properly. "It was you!" he hisses. "The fly on the wall!"

Pansy snorts derisively. "My Animagus is a ladybug, thank you very much."

Draco glowers at her as their captor chortles in amusement. "You two make a right pair, I'll give you that." He flicks his wand, and their chairs lurch forward until they're toe-to-toe. The duo looks up into beady eyes and a toothless smile as the man leans in menacingly. "Now, listen very carefully. If you want to get out of this alive, you'll do exactly as I say."

Four hours ago…

Draco hurries down the street, willing himself to not peer over his shoulder and to write off the growing sense of trepidation as nothing more than him being paranoid. After all, there's no reason to be worried, right? He's done what was asked of him and was promised that no one would know.

So why can't he shake off the feeling that he's being followed?

The crosswalk light turns red, and he abruptly comes to a stop at the edge of the pavement. He teeters over the edge before stepping down to regain his balance.

Then, out of nowhere, a car comes careening down the street, straight at him. He's frozen to the spot, blinded by the headlights, only managing to raise a hand to shield his eyes. Someone grabs him just as the car swerves sharply, pulling Draco away from the street as the vehicle screeches to a stop before speeding off around the corner.

Draco's heart thunders in his chest, and he turns to look at his saviour. A toothless grin and beady eyes greet him.

"Can't have you dying already, can we?" the burly man says, and Draco comes to the shuddering realisation that he had been followed after all.

"Wha—who are you?" Draco demands, snatching his arm away and stumbling backwards. Just as he pulls out his wand, the other man disarms him.

"Now, now. There's no need to be anxious. I'm just the delivery man." The bloke holds out a brown paper bag, shoving it into Draco's chest when he refuses to take it. "Open it."

Draco cautiously peers into the bag, squinting down at the small, flat device with a single button in the middle. "Thi—this is…?"

"You have one more job to do."

"What job? And who the bloody hell are you?"

The man's eyes gleam dangerously. "I already told you—I'm just the delivery man." He steps closer and grins. "And my job is to keep you safe and deliver you to the right place, at the right time."

Before Draco manages to say anything, a giant hand clamps down over his mouth and a stinging pain erupts in the back of his neck. As his consciousness fades, something is pulled over his head, and he vaguely thinks that it stinks of fish.

Six hours ago…

"I refuse."

Draco meets the gaze of the three Aurors standing before him and crosses his arms, his jaw squared and his nose in the air. The redhead in the middle sighs.

"I told you this wouldn't work," he mutters to the others.

"Give him a minute, Ron."

"It's been half an hour, Harry. What difference is one more minute gonna make?"

The men square off, seemingly communicating with their eyes, until Potter looks away with a sigh.

"Alright, fine. If this really is your decision, Malfoy, then we have no choice but to accept it."

"I really don't think that's a good idea," the last of the trio pipes up.

"I agree, Nev, but it's not like we can coerce him into doing this," Weasley says, glowering at Draco. "Even if he did agree to do it originally…"

Potter runs a hand through his hair. He glances down at the blueprint in front of him then meets Draco's gaze. "I hope you understand what refusing means."

"Look, Potter, I held up my side of the bargain, so it's only fair that you hold up yours," Draco snaps.

The bespectacled man glances at the other two again then nods slowly. "Fine."

"Harry!" Longbottom exclaims.

"Leave it, mate," Weasley says, his irritation clear. "A snake never sheds its skin."

Draco scoffs. "That is entirely incorrect." He takes the blueprint and folds it up, then picks up the small box beside it. "But I really can't be bothered to argue with you."

Weasley goes red in the face, and Potter steps in front of him to cut off any possibility of escalation. He looks at Draco with concern swirling in his eyes. "If you leave now, then that's that. Are you sure—"

"My answer is still the same, Potter," Draco interrupts, pocketing the items. "And I'm taking these with me."

Potter pauses for a moment, then holds out a hand. "Well, good luck to you."

Draco shakes his hand once, smiling thinly. "Let's hope I don't need it."

Eight hours ago…

Potter paces up and down the narrow room, brows furrowed in concentration. Weasley and Longbottom stand in one corner, muttering amongst themselves. Draco taps a finger on his knee, impatient.

Finally, static sounds, and the three Aurors reach for their magically amplified walkie-talkies. Draco can't make out what's being said thanks to the privacy spell that makes it sound like garbled buzzing. Then, Potter nods and walks over to Draco as Weasley and Longbottom leave, presumably to carry out the same task in the next room.

"We've got the all-clear," Potter says, his voice tense. "You can still walk away if you want to."

Draco glares.

Potter sighs. "Alright, well… I'm going to perform a memory altering charm on you so that if you're caught, they won't be able to glean any usable information from you about this operation or your participation in it."

"OK."

Potter pauses, then asks, "You remember Auror Jeffords?"

Draco frowns, thinking. "The big bloke with the missing front teeth? What about him?"

"He's going to stage a kidnapping after I've altered your memories so that you think you were coerced into doing this."

Draco's eyes widen, and Potter shrugs. "I can't accompany you and ensure your safety, so this is the next best thing. He tends to get carried away, though, so just… be careful. Not that you'll remember any of this anyway."

Draco continues to stare at Potter, aghast, and the man clears his throat. "I'll also be implanting false memories so that you think your kidnapping, subsequent coercion, and the explosion are all real. A trigger phrase said by me will return your original memories."

"Alright..." Draco says, hesitant. "What about…"

"She's in the other room. Ron and Neville are performing the spell on her."

"Great. Let's get on with it, then."

Potter hesitates. "Are you sure—"

"Just do it, Potter."

Draco closes his eyes and swallows down his fear. He lets the magic wash over him, a strange sensation of liquid filling his head then draining out to be replaced by a cottony feeling. Draco opens his eyes once the spell is complete, feeling disoriented.

Potter's voice sounds far away when he says, "You won't remember this, but you're not doing this alone; trust your gut."

Then everything goes black.

Ten hours ago…

Draco watches the Aurors through the reinforced glass as the debate continues. After an inordinately long time, they file out of the conference room, each wearier than the next, and one makes a beeline towards Draco.

"They're not buying it," Potter says. "And I'm inclined to agree."

Draco rolls his eyes. "You and a dozen other Aurors confirmed the blueprint's legitimacy."

"Yes, but…" Potter sighs. "Your plan is dangerous enough without you, a civilian, having to carry it out."

Draco steps forward so he's nearly in the other's face. "You said yourself that sending in Aurors could risk the entire operation. Hansel knows me. If I get caught, I can talk my way out of it."

"There's no way you can just charm your way out of this, Malfoy. You're going to be wandering around a museum in the dead of night."

They glower at each other. Draco clicks his tongue. "What if I use an invisibility cloak or something?"

"That's one more thing you're going to have to juggle." Potter shakes his head. "It won't work. You can't go in alone. Besides," he adds, "You've proven to be a valuable asset in taking down Pureblood crime syndicates. There's no reason for us to willingly sacrifice you."

Draco scoffs. "Glad to know you care."

There's a commotion outside just then, and an Auror walks past with Pansy in tow. He pauses to say, "We found this one trying to eavesdrop again."

"Seriously, she needs to learn when to quit," Potter snaps as they walk away. "How the Ministry approved her Animagus form is beyond me."

A sudden thought makes Draco grab Potter by the shoulder. "What if I don't go in alone and there's a way to get in and out unnoticed?"

Potter frowns.

Draco gestures to Pansy.

"How about we put that ladybug to good use?"

Twelve hours ago…

"Hansel trusted me enough to leave me alone in his vault—for so long that I managed to recreate the blueprint," Draco argues. "Believe me; he won't suspect a thing,"

"Yes, but there are other ways this could go wrong," Potter says patiently. "They're monitoring the entire building for reasons we're unsure of yet—the bomb threat could just be a diversion for a heist—so even if you do manage to get in through a secret passageway, there's no way you'd manage to defuse the bomb and get out without anybody noticing."

"Or, we could use that new device—the box with the blackhole inside that can swallow anything up without causing harm," Weasley pipes up. "And nobody will have to defuse anything."

Draco shoots Potter a questioning look.

The man shrugs. "I don't know how it works either, but they've tested it out and it's essentially what Ron described—a blackhole in a box. I suppose you could use that to get the bomb out without having to defuse it..."

"And then it wouldn't matter whether or not it's real," Longbottom adds.

Potter scratches his ear. "Yeah, but what if he gets caught? Then it'll turn into a hostage situation."

They lapse into thoughtful silence. The gears in Draco's brain churn together as an idea begins to form.

"What if," he begins, and the three Aurors watch him with rapt attention. "What if we create a diversion of our own to confuse them enough and foil their plan?"

Before he can say any more, Longbottom exclaims loudly. He jumps out of his chair, flicks his wand madly, and a moment later, a rather large ladybug darts past Draco's face and out the door. Potter rolls his eyes and gestures for Draco to continue.

Draco says, "What if we make it seem like the bomb did explode?"

"You mean…"

Draco's smile is grim. "Yes. We're going to set up an elaborate illusion."

Now…

Draco jumps when the pop of Apparition sounds beside him. He stares wide-eyed as a grinning Potter claps him on the back.

"You seem out of sorts. Looks like your memory's back."

"What," Draco says, holding out the detonator, which he now remembers is what set off an illusion, not a bomb. "How…"

Potter laughs. "Your insane plan worked! Parkinson flew in and out in her Animagus form, undetected, and managed to get the bomb out—which wasn't real, by the way. As we'd suspected, it was a ruse to distract us from their original purpose—a heist.

"You set up the projectors for the illusion, in the meantime, without remembering what exactly you were doing," he continues as Draco gawks silently. "And the fake explosion caused enough confusion to allow us to capture the criminals before they were able to carry out the heist."

Draco stares at Potter, dumbfounded.

Potter jerks his thumb over his shoulder, a sympathetic smile on his face. "Let's get you outta here. This place is gonna be crawling with Aurors any moment now."

Draco nods dumbly and lets Potter escort him away as he processes everything. The sunlight catches him in the face, and he squints, coming to a startled halt. Potter asks him if he's alright, but Draco can only nod mutely as he watches the sky brighten with the coming of dawn.

Just before they Disapparate, Draco glances over his shoulder. Through the already-fading dust and debris, he can spy the shadow of the still-intact museum. With a shudder, he realises that his own deception was so complete that he fell prey to an illusion of his own making.

It's like that moment in Muggle films, he thinks, where time slows and you think the Muggles have discovered the secrets of magic, but actually it's all just a clever deception and a big, fat lie.

Yeah, this is exactly like that.